


Homeostasis

by Blairjay



Series: Bodily Functions [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, Child Soldiers, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, LOTS of fucking time skips, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform, Original Character Insert, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert ish, Time Skips, hashirama is pansexual, izuna is gay, not meant to be super realistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:09:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blairjay/pseuds/Blairjay
Summary: homeostasis: n. the tendency toward a relatively stable equilibrium between interdependent elements, especially as maintained by physiological processes.In which someone all but destroys Indra and takes his place in Madara and it's no accident whatsoever.





	1. Apoptosis

When two souls meet and fight over a body, over the infant soul that was already there, things tend to get messy.

How I died was inconsequential. Who I had been didn't matter. Who I was going to be? Was going to matter in a very terminal sort of sense.

You see, after I died, I knew I needed to change something, somewhere. That was my purpose, at the very end. So, I went on a hunt.

I found the boy - truthfully, no more than a fetus - and settled in for the long haul. But then another showed up, and that's where we are today.

A fight between spirits, between the very souls of two people, is more than interesting. It is bombastic, and if it was visible it could be compared to fireworks. Took quite a toll on whoever was nearby - in case, the boy's mother.

I saw, felt, heard the other go for the young infant soul, and silently shrieked. I took it-him into my own mass as the other's larger one bore down on me. It-he melded with me, becoming larger and more cohesive. Its-his emotions, newborn thoughts, life force were swept away below mine and kept hidden, kept secret.

The other soul-spirit stopped dead.

 _Leave,_ I said, my not-voice warped and chilling. _Or I will destroy you._ A mere truth in the face of one of the most powerful beings to have ever lived. I had confidence and intuition on my side, whilst he had been blinded by anger and hate.

The other merely bore his metaphorical teeth and went in for the kill. I returned in kind.

We tumbled into a mindscape, real-yet-not. The wind tore at our skin, at our hair. We were both naked but that did not matter. I was in my old body, the one with the burn scar on her left upper arm.

His face was familiar, yet not. One from an old story, one I had cherished my whole life because to me it had mattered more than anything. It had taught me so much and made me learn more than one thought. I carried that story close to my heart, knowing to look beneath the underneath and to always outstretch a hand in helping before striking.

"Indra," I snarled. I yanked on his hair - long and unruly - and ground his face into the field. "I told you I was going to destroy you."

I dug my nails, my claws, into his neck, drawing not-blood. His eyes went wide, hair splayed around his head. He reared up at me, trying to knock his head into mine, but he was too late.

Fire exploded from my chest and swallowed him whole. His rage soured, turned into fear, and then was gone, safely locked away. Inside, where it could hurt no others.

Then, I opened my eyes to screaming and a child wailing. The screaming subsided, but the child's cries did not. Hushed words were spoken, and though I didn't understand the words, I knew that I had gotten a new name.

Uchiha Madara.

If I could have smiled, I would have.

* * *

 

Things progressed quite quickly from there. Months passed by and I soaked in knowledge, not unlike a sponge. There were always new things to learn.

I turned one relatively soon. I couldn't remember being one year old, before. I knew that I only had a limited amount of time left, and I had to make the most of it before things turned to shit.

So, I made a plan shortly after my birthday.

First; become a strong shinobi, as canon Madara had been.  
Second; do not betray the village like canon Madara had.  
Third; ensure I had a good legacy.

It sounded easier said than done, and it would likely be that way.

I swung my feet carefully, watching the older boys - genin-level from what I could tell - as they trained. Their sensei, an older woman, held up a hand.

"Stop," she ordered. She adjusted one of the boy's stance, then said, "Fire again." The boy drew back the arrow and let it fly. It struck true.

I saw the awe on his face and how he restrained himself from jumping with joy. I felt a small, soft smile wrestle for control on my face.

"Madara-chan," a familiar voice called. "Come inside. It's time for lunch."

I jumped up, hurrying inside. I looked up at my mother, Uchiha Junko. "Here, kaa-chan," I said, obediently sliding into my seat. "Where is tou-san?"

Her eyes softened. A plate was placed in front of me, loaded with fish and rice and vegetables. "Tajima is out," she said. That most likely meant he was on a mission or fighting and didn't want to tell me. "He'll be back tomorrow morning."

I nodded and began to eat. My motor skills left much to be desired, but at least I could feed myself. I was slowly but surely improving and that's all that mattered when you were one year old.

After dinner was done, I noticed that my mother was pale. "Kaa-chan," I said softly, tugging on her fingers. "Are you okay?" While I could understand a fair bit, my spoken vocabulary was... limited. I hadn't even tried to write yet.

Junko looked down at me and smiled fondly. "Yes. Just a little ill." I nodded solemnly and curled up next to her. Being the child that I was, I fell asleep easily.

* * *

 

I woke silently but kept my eyes closed. I felt my mother's familiar embrace as she held me. The door creaked open and my father's chakra entered the house.

"Junko," my father murmured. "I need to speak with you. Is he asleep?"

My mother, none the wiser, gave an affirming noise. "What is it, Tajima?"

"We should start training him. He is our heir and knows more than he should. He could become the strongest shinobi of his generation-"

"No," my mother's voice was sharp. "He's one, Tajima. A child. Do you really want him on the battlefield as a toddler?"

A moment of silence. Then, my father spoke again. "No. He'd be sent out on missions when he's older. Training must start early. You know this."

I felt my mother wilt slightly. "Fine. I... I know how he looks at the older children while they're training. He may as well learn." She sighed. "But he's practically a baby. Can't you wait a little longer?"

The couch beside us dipped with weight. My father must have sat down. "Of course, Junko. We can wait until he is three, but no later. Training must start by then, or nothing good will come from this."

Another pause. I kept my breathing slow and quiet, my face slack and looking like the epitome of a sleeping child. "Junko, are you well? You look ill."

"Yes, Tajima," she said, seemingly amused. "If I still feel ill today, then I'll go to a medic. Fair?"

"Hmm. That's fair."

With that, I was lulled back to sleep to the sound of my mother's heartbeat.

* * *

 

The next morning, my mother hauled me and my father to the clinic. We were sitting awkwardly in the waiting room as she was taken into the back by a medic.

Though men and women were considered equals, women were expected not to take the field. If they did, they were expected to be long-range support or medics. I knew the implications - bloodline theft and... other unsavory factors were a real thing.

My mother was an Uchiha by birth, but she was a very distant cousin at best, and she didn't even have the Sharingan. Not that I minded.

The clan, though, thought that their clan head could have done better.

My mother chose to be a housewife because it was safer and easier. That didn't mean she was any less of a kunoichi, or that she didn't know how to kill.

I was interrupted by my musing by Junko returning to the waiting room. She had a lofty grin on her face, which I knew something interesting had happened. I eyed her as she picked me up. Tajima walked next to her, ignoring the looks of the clan.

My parents were young. My mother was twenty at most. My father was perhaps twenty-four if he was lucky. This didn't bode well for me, especially considering the lifespan of shinobi and civilians alike were maybe thirty years old if they were lucky.

I inhaled and burrowed my face into my mother's shoulder, cursing this child body. I didn't want to cry.

Junko patted my back, kissing the top of my head. "We're almost home, Madara-chan."

Before long, we returned to the clan head's home, our home. She placed me on the couch and sat in the armchair across from it. A grin stole across her face again. "Tajima, please take a seat."

He did. We eyed her worriedly, warily.

"I'm pregnant," Junko said brightly. "We're going to have another child."

I blinked. That had been better than I thought. "I'm going to be a big brother?" I asked, slightly dumbfounded.

My mother nodded. My father was silent beside me.

"I'm going to be a father again," Tajima said, his voice full of wonder.

* * *

 

I was two years and three months old when Uchiha Habiki was born, on March twenty-seventh. He was three kilograms and fifty-three centimeters long. He was one of the cutest things in the whole wide world, in my own humble opinion.

"Come here, Madara-chan," my mother murmured, pale and sweaty from the birth. I worried she wouldn't live long enough to have Izuna and my other two brothers.

She placed Habiki in my arms and my morose thoughts were torn away. I blinked away tears.

"Hi, Habiki-chan," I murmured. "It's nice to meet you."

Then, my father whisked Habiki away, making me pout at him.

After that, life became very very different for me. I learned how to read and write, cramming months' worth of time into the span of weeks. I learned complex math and jutsu theory and half a thousand different things. It was mind-boggling to keep up with it all, but I managed. Barely.

I carefully wrote my name, my family's names, place names, animal names, and so much more in hiragana, in katakana. I wouldn't learn to write kanji for some time yet, but I could read it remarkably well for my age. My parents were bursting with pride every time I proved to learn something new.

Habiki was eight months old when I began to learn how to throw kunai. I was nearly three, the age which my parents had decided to train me for real.

My father led me out into the training yard, where two of my cousins, a boy and a girl, were training.

"Now, Madara," my father began. "Uchiha are not only famous for our Sharingan, but also our efficiency with weapons and jutsu. For now, you will learn taijutsu and bukijutsu, the art of weapons."

I nodded eagerly, taking the weapons pouch he handed to me. "Keep this with you. It contains a few kunai and shuriken. They're sharp, so be careful," I took one of the kunai out, admiring the glint of metal in the sunlight.

He let me throw the kunai the first time, mirroring the stance I'd seen from my cousins and relatives. It missed, overshooting and landing in the grass. Frowning, I tried another and another. Each time, I missed.

My father watched me as I retrieved the weapons, eyeing me. I took the stance again, but he stopped me.

He drew my arm closer to me and nudged my legs so they were closer together. "Now try,"

I threw. It didn't hit the bullseye, but at least it hit the target this time.

He nodded, rubbing his chin. "You were using the stance usually for people taller and bulkier than you, Madara," he said. "We need to adjust this. One day you can use it, but you're barely three."

I nodded and retrieved my last kunai. "What now, tou-san?"

He smiled wryly. "Practice. Kunai and shuriken this time."

Withholding a sigh, I did as he said.

* * *

 

Habiki was just older than a year and I was well on my way to four years old when our mother became pregnant once more. At this point, the clan had gotten used to her, and the fact she bore the clan head two healthy sons.

While men and women were considered equal, there was still a skewing towards males taking on the mantle of their fathers. I didn't mind that too much; after all, I was a man in this life.

Training slowly became more intense, taking up much of my spare time. Flexibility, speed, and endurance training was the bulk of it, followed by bukijutsu and taijutsu.

Katas were a form of meditation all on their own, one I preferred over the type that kept me still and silent. Not that katas were loud.

After that came chakra sensing and basic chakra control techniques.

I couldn't remember if the canonical Madara had been a sensor - most likely, in all honesty - but I was an exceptional one.

My fourth birthday came and went in December and before I knew it, it was the tenth of February. It was exactly six days before mother's due date, which made me wary.

I woke up, feeling someone or something in the edges of my chakra sense. Blearily, I looked around the room and frowned. I got up and grabbed one of my kunai, creeping into the hallway. I clamped down on my chakra, making sure I was as silent as possible.

My brother was asleep and alone in his room. Mother...

A jolt of panic went straight to my heart. I slipped into her room, careful not to make the door creak.

My mother was asleep, snoring softly. Her large, rounded belly peeked out of the blankets.

A large silhouette loomed over her with an unfamiliar chakra. A sword was poised over my mother's belly, where one of my little brothers rested.

My heart pounded in my ears. My mouth was dry. I knew I had to keep rational.

I held my breath and threw my kunai. It landed true, sinking into the back of his neck. I lunged forward as he went stock still, knocking the sword from its intended target. My eyes burned and suddenly the whole world was clear. This was something I was going to remember for the entirety of my life.

The sword sank two inches into the mattress beside my mother. She jerked awake, eyes wild.

"Madara?" She murmured, even as the corpse laid on top of her. I swallowed.

"Yes, kaa-chan," I whispered, trying my best to push the corpse off of her. She did most of the work on her own, not needing any of my help.

All the while, my eyes never stopped burning.

"Your eyes," she murmured. I looked down at the floor. I knew what the burn meant. My father and cousins had talked about it enough for me to understand.

I had activated my Sharingan.

Suddenly, my mother grunted and placed a hand over her stomach. My eyes snapped up to look at her.

Her face was pale and she looked grim. "Madara-chan, please get your brother and escort me to the clinic," she said softly. I hurried to get the younger boy in question, wrapping my brother in a blanket. I ignored the blood on my hands and splattered across my chest.

I met our mother in the kitchen, sleepy Habiki in my arms. She had the emergency baby bag in her hands with a grimace on her face.

Getting to the clinic was a painfully slow process. My mother was wracked with contractions every ten minutes. By the time we reached the clinic, they had gotten more intense and quicker.

The night shift medics and guard were surprised, to say the least.

"Junko-sama!" One yelped, rushing to his feet. I blinked. How strange; I could see his movements before he actually moved.

"I'm afraid this little one has decided to arrive early," she told the medic, who hurried to bring her into the back.

Habiki woke, grumbling at me.

Another medic approached. I eyed her warily, but she offered empty hands. "Madara, please turn off your Sharingan," she said softly. "Cut the chakra to your eyes."

I followed her instructions, blinking at the sudden difference. "Can I... wash?" I asked. "There was an intruder. The blood isn't mine."

She nodded, sympathy in her dark eyes. "Of course. The bathroom is down the hall and to the right. Would you prefer to leave Habiki-chan here?"

I frowned. "Right now, I don't think there's another option, so yes. Please take care of him,"

"Of course," she soothed. I handed him to her, mechanically walking to the bathroom.

I scrubbed off the blood, staring blankly at my arms and face, which I had rubbed raw. My hands began to quiver and my sight blurred with tears. Shakily, I locked the door.

Then, I vomited, barely managing to cling to the toilet. Tears streaked down my face. My vision kept flashing back to that moment in time, now ingrained in my memory.

I threw up again and wiped my mouth clean with water. I was pale, paler than usual even, all because I had killed a man. I cursed myself for that weakness.

But I was four years old and had never killed anyone before. My limbs were still shaking, but I was remarkably calmer now. I inhaled and exhaled, inhaled, exhaled.

Then, I gathered myself and went back into the waiting room. Habiki flailed excitedly when he saw me, and I managed a weak smile.

"Aniki!" He shrieked. I grabbed him from the medic's arms, sitting him down in my lap. I pressed my lips to the top of his head, sitting in a chair. I folded my legs underneath me, sitting Habiki into the bowl they made.

"Hello, Habiki-chan," I murmured. I carded my fingers through his dark brown hair. "Were you nice for medic-san?"

He nodded, giving me a half-toothy grin. "Yes!" I smiled and wrapped my arms around him. A medic came over to me and examined both me and Habiki. When we were given a clean bill of health, all we could do was wait anxiously for our mother.

This labor took hours and by the time the cries tapered off, it was dawn and Habiki had fallen asleep. I was tired and everyone looked like they were run ragged. I doubted I was any different.

The midwives came out looking solemn. "Be careful, boy," the eldest one said waspishly. "Your mother is ill from the birth. We nearly had to tear your newest brother from her."

I swallowed and took Habiki with me into the room.

Our mother was pale and shaky, holding a newborn to her breast. "Kaa-chan?" I asked softly, hesitating by the door.

She looked up at me, giving me a smile. "Madara. Is Habiki alright?"

I nodded. "Just tired. I... didn't want to go home. So we stayed here."

She sighed softly and shook her head fondly. "Come here, Madara. Meet your little brother," she said. I did as she told me to. "This is Uchiha Izuna."

I swallowed and smiled at his soft, squishy face. "Hi, Izuna," I murmured. Habiki woke up then, blinking and yawning. He rubbed his eyes and rotated to look at mother and Izuna.

"New brother?" He asked sleepily.

"Yes, Habiki-chan," she replied. "This is Izuna-chan, your new brother."

After that, life changed even more drastically than ever before.

* * *

 

Father, after hearing that I had activated my Sharingan, had decided to all but train me into the ground. My free time became abysmal. I was expected to learn jutsu a year before my cousins did, along with learning politics to take the place of my father as clan head when he died.

I flowed through the handseals, building up the chakra. Narrowing my eyes, I said to the air, "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

A fireball billowed out from my mouth, arching hugely over the lake. It looked like a tiny sun and left spots dancing in my vision. I panted, looking over at my father.

He smiled at me. "Good job, Madara. One day, it will become stronger, but for your age that is amazing. Do you have enough chakra for any kawarimi, bunshin, or henge?"

I considered the question, then my chakra reserves. "I have one for a bunshin," I said hesitantly. The Katon jutsu knocked out a solid two-thirds of my chakra.

"Show me."

I made the handseals and another me materialized into existence. I fell to my knees and the clone burst into smoke. I panted, swallowing.

He shook his head. "Alright, that's enough. Thank you, Madara. Please take a break now." I nodded and hurried to go inside.

Habiki, now two years old, toddled around the living room. Izuna, four months of age, watched him intently. I watched them, a smile coming over my face.

Our mother was in the kitchen, half-way recovered from Izuna's birth. I couldn't see her having any more children for a year or longer. My stomach felt like a pit all of a sudden. What if she died in childbirth?

Swallowing, I shoved the thought away. I turned back to my little brothers and sat down on the couch.

Izuna immediately began to babble at me and Habiki wandered over, crawling into my lap. I smiled fondly and held them both close.

* * *

Another two years passed. I turned five, then six. Mother became pregnant in January after my sixth birthday, and I was terrified she wouldn't, couldn't make it.

I threw myself into training, even going so far as to learn basic iryo-ninjutsu. I became better in leaps and bounds, barely having time to help my mother with Habiki and Izuna.

The clan needed more people to fight. My brothers and I were to become part of the fighting force as soon as we turned eight. I only had two years left before I ended up on the battlefield.

In the end, none of it would matter.

Mother died in childbirth, taking the twins she was carrying with her. Father became very different after that.

We held a funeral and I held Habiki and Izuna to my sides as we stood in front of the shared grave.

Uchiha Junko, it said. Uchiha Kaito. Uchiha Kaede.

Two little brothers. Two little brothers who never breathed, who would never have felt the sun on their skin. Two little brothers who would never get to laugh, or to speak, or to see the mother that loved them.

Habiki and I didn't cry. Izuna had no qualms on this, sobbing into my pant leg.

Everyone in the clan had attended. She had won them over, in the end.

I closed my eyes, swallowed, and felt the burn in my chest.

* * *

 

It would be a year before our father spoke to any of us again. In that year, I took over as my brothers' mother and father, taking them to their lessons and cooking their food. I taught Habiki how to write his name, my name, our mother's name.

Izuna called for our mother and our father in the night, but there was only Habiki and me to soothe him. My heart ached. Would he even remember our mother?

I was just older than eight when our father finally returned to living in the house. I watched him warily, now a shinobi in my own right. I didn't know if he was going to hurt Habiki or Izuna, or even me.

Habiki looked the most like our mother, with her eyes and her hair. Then it was Izuna, with his face being nearly identical to Junko's, then me. I looked most like our father, though my face was still round with baby fat.

One night, he called me into the living room. Izuna and Habiki had long since gone to bed.

"Madara," he said quietly, carefully. "Since you are now eight years old, you will be expected to go out on missions." He paused, searching my face. I met his eyes with mine. "Do you accept?"

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. I knew what I had to do. Then, I looked back up and gave him a wry smile.

"Yes, tou-sama."


	2. Liquid Balance

I crouched in the bushes, glancing to the side at one of my cousins - Uchiha Masao - as he unsheathed his sword. His face was grim and his eyes were red with the Sharingan.

Uneasy, I turned my gaze back to the bandits ahead of us.

We had been tasked to kill these bandits, who were choking out several small civilian villages near the compound. We would be paid remarkably well for it, too, at seventy thousand ryō.

Masao made a gesture, which I easily understood. I readied my kunai. In tandem, we struck. Our eyes glowed red in the dark.

Masao, taller and older with more experience, was ahead of me by a few meters. He beheaded a bandit with ease, while I threw a kunai and hit one in the eye.

With deadly accuracy, I flung kunai and shuriken, most hitting their marks. A few bandits would die in agony due to my errors.

"Madara! Behind you!"

I swiveled around, ducking out of the way of the bandit's sloppy sword strike. The blade clipped my arm, cutting into the skin. I hissed and unsheathed my own tantō, which had languished on my back for far too long.

I cut upward, digging into his stomach. The sword cracked the bone in his sternum and got stuck there. He gurgled and fell.

Within minutes, the bandits had died or were well on their way to death. Masao found the leader and yanked the talisman from her neck while I finished off the fallen. I retrieved the kunai and shuriken I could, though my tantō was a lost cause.

A pity. It had been a good weapon.

Masao and I looted the rest of the bodies, then headed on our way back to the woman who told us of the bandits.

All in all, a very normal and average mission for me.

* * *

 

I soon turned nine, then ten. Habiki was able to join missions, but he was becoming an iryō-nin, so there was no true point - for a time, at least. Izuna, meanwhile, was forced to train harder and harder.

"Madara," my father called. His voice was gruff and his face was stern. I saw Habiki and Izuna give me worried looks, but I wasted no time to go to our father. "You've recently turned ten,"

I shivered in the cold wind but nodded. "Yes, tou-sama."

He eyed me critically. "Follow me," Obediently, I did.

He led me to the armory, pushing open the door. It was dark and quiet, with no sounds but the howling winter winds and our breathing.

"Madara, it's about the age that you choose a weapon," he said, lighting a lantern. He hung it on a hook that dropped from the ceiling, illuminating the room. "Choose wisely, my son."

I looked around at the vast array of weapons. I saw the gunbai with the tomoe and kama and was extremely tempted to choose it. However, I wasn't about to become the Madara I had known. I was me, the Madara I knew now. Not him.

Another caught my eye.

A naginata's blade gleamed in the dark. I approached it, carefully picking it up. The handle was made of a dark colored wood, the blade of dark metal. A few characters, a name, were carved into the handle, between two straps of leather. It was too worn away for me to read, but I could recognize the word Uchiha.

I felt it in my hands, swinging it a few times. Its balance was perfect, even for me. Instantly, I knew this one was mine.

A smile stretched across my face and a shiver of excitement ran down my spine. "This one, tou-sama."

I turned around, holding the weapon in my hands like a prized belonging. He nodded, an approving glint in his eye. "Very well, Madara. Treat it well. Let's find a holster for that, and then go back to your brothers,"

We found a relatively new naginata back holster, in a dark shade of gray. The tightest position fit me snugly, and the naginata sat in it like it had been built to be there.

We returned home, greeted by Izuna and Habiki. I smiled as Izuna flung himself into my arms, babbling away. I chuckled and ruffled his hair.

"Hello, Izuna," I said fondly. "What have you learned today?"

His face brightened. "I learned how to throw kunai, aniki!" He said, arms still wrapped around my waist. "What'cha got there?"

"This?" I asked, smirking as I touched the handle of the naginata. "This is my new weapon. It's a naginata."

Izuna's eyes went as wide as saucers. "That's so cool!" He squealed, rushing off to tackle Habiki and babble about the weapon. I shook my head fondly.

This idyllic lifestyle wouldn't last long, though.

* * *

 

Habiki's first and final mission was with me and two other Uchiha - Fumiko and Daichi - far outside our own territory.

Fumiko was sixteen. Daichi was almost twenty. They were brother and sister to boot, able to execute complicated double-team maneuvers that I'd never think about doing with Habiki or Izuna.

We ran through the trees, hyperaware of our surroundings. I kept my eyes open and wary. My chakra sense was as wide as I dared to push it.

"Stop," Daichi ordered. We dropped from the branches to the ground. "Fumiko, have you still got the mission?" He meant the scroll. His sister nodded.

Daichi turned to me. "Madara, can you sense anyone?"

I closed my eyes briefly, frowning. Then, I felt them approaching. "Yes. Six mid- to high-level chakra signatures, approaching quickly from the north-northeast," I reported swiftly. My eyes flew open again, and I saw Daichi's and Fumiko's eyes shone red. I quickly followed suit, taking place behind Habiki.

Then, they were upon us.

I drew my naginata, watching as Fumiko and Daichi deflected the first two. The clashing of metal rang throughout the forest.

An unfamiliar shinobi grabbed Fumiko's arm and deftly snapped it in two. She shrieked, stabbing him with her tantō.

He let out a gurgling noise. Fumiko fell back, flinging shuriken with her good arm.

Daichi fought two at once, going for a groin shot before stabbing one in the face. Blood sprayed across the ground.

Habiki and I waited, tense as ever.

Then Daichi fell - not dead, but wounded - and the other four were coming at us.

The tallest one, with shoulder pads, cleaved downward at Habiki. I moved unthinkingly, throwing a pair of kunai. He died, but the kinetic force still came. Someone screamed and I realized it was Fumiko.

The swing had hit her bad arm, which she used to block my little brother. It cleaved cleanly through it.

Fumiko's lower arm fell to the forest floor. For a moment, everything was still. She sunk to her knees, shock on her face. Her Sharingan morphed, twisting into a flower-like pattern. Her eyes were locked on Daichi, her brother.

Habiki was trembling, face pale. I wanted to console him, to bring him out of the catatonic state he was in.

But there was no time. I was the only one able to fight right now.

I pushed Habiki behind me and stood in front of Fumiko. I felt my arms tremble but kept my face grim. I had no time to show weakness. Not in front of the enemy.

One, with red hair, laughed at my show. "Aw, is the little baby Uchiha gonna fight us?"

I gave Red Hair my grimmest smile. Another, with thick plates of armor, said "Run home to mommy, little boy! The battlefield is no place for a toddler."

The third snickered.

I narrowed my eyes and struck at Third, carving the sharp naginata through his light armor. He died with a twisted, mocking laugh on his face.

Red Hair and Plate Armor looked at me, shocked out of their joking. Then, their shock turned to anger.

My arms trembled again against my will.

They attacked me in unison. I made the grave error of ducking, forgetting who was behind me.

I heard Habiki's soft gasp, could practically hear the blood drain from his face to the cut in his chest. I turned around and screamed.

Plate Armor's katana was up to the hilt in my baby brother's chest. Blood bubbled up to Habiki's mouth, overflowing and running down his chin.

Rage engulfed me and I let it. My body went on autopilot. When I came to, about three minutes later, Red Hair and Plate Armor were dead. Their bodies were shredded to pieces. I had blood sticking to nearly every inch of my body, gore and bone sliding down the blade of my naginata.

I took one look at my Habiki's cooling corpse and vomited.

I heard a soft moan from Fumiko, showing she was still alive. Daichi was, too, but his chakra signaled that he was unconscious.

I put my naginata away, feeling empty now. I sat down next to Fumiko, seeing her the more likely to die.

Green chakra flowed out of my hands to the wound, coating the stub. I carefully knitted flesh and skin back together, hiding the bone. At this point, no one was skilled enough to reattach arms, much less me.

I went to Daichi, healing the gaping wound in his side and jolting him awake. His face was pale and his face was serious when he saw me.

"Madara," he said slowly. "What happened after I...?"

"They attacked," I replied flatly. "Fumiko is down half an arm and Habiki is dead." I paused. "The attackers are dead, as well."

He nodded, Sharingan deactivating. He deflated, looking more tired than I had ever seen him. "Let's return home. I doubt any of us can complete the mission in this state."

I nodded robotically and went to pick up Habiki's body.

I gently closed those chocolate brown eyes, removing the katana as carefully as I could. "I'm sorry, Habiki," I whispered. "I couldn't save you."

As I turned away from the gore, something on one of the enemy corpses caught my eye. My blood ran cold.

The sigil of the Senju.

* * *

 

We burned Habiki's body, as was the custom among the Uchiha. Izuna wept, even though he was six and it was looked down upon to do so.

I held him to me, running my hand over his hair. I had cried on the way home and had no more tears left.

Father was standing next to us, a cold bulwark in the face of another death.

Fumiko and Daichi stood behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to stop myself from feeling sick.

I wish I could have begged Habiki for forgiveness for not paying attention. But he was dead now.

His urn was lowered into the crypt. Then, his gravestone was placed right next to our mother's and little brothers'.

Even after the clan walked away, even after Father took Izuna, I stayed. I fell to my knees and traced the kanji on my brother's gravestone.

"I'm sorry, Habiki," I whispered. "But I can't avenge you. I can't become that person."

A wind swept through the graveyard. I swore I could hear Habiki telling me it was alright.

* * *

 

Time went on. A year passed, then another, and a third. Before long, it was the summer after I turned thirteen.

During those three years, the Uchiha quickly got more involved with the Senju. At first, it had been nothing more than border disputes and chance meetings.

Now, it was full out war, between us and them and our various vassal clans. Father had taken full offense when Senju shinobi had killed Habiki and desired revenge.

This sat poorly with Izuna and I, who believed that Habiki wouldn't want revenge. However, we didn't dare speak out against our father. Thus, we did as he asked of us.

My kill count was frighteningly high for a thirteen-year-old - numbering in the triple digits. I was extremely adept at my weapon of choice.

Sitting in front of the grave of Habiki on the third anniversary, I looked skyward. The sun warmed my face. I closed my eyes and made a choice.

* * *

 

I went to a river in neutral territory. It was a familiar river that I'd only seen a handful of times before now. I chose to gaze upon the place where Konohagakure no Sato would sit one day.

I made weekly visits to the river, wondering when Hashirama would show. Or if I had changed too much already and we were to never meet now.

Out of boredom, I decided to try to skip rocks. Again and again, I failed.

Grumbling, I took another and aimed. Yet, something completely unexpected happened.

Another rock shot out from behind me, skipping across the water and landing on the other side.

Slowly, carefully, I turned around. Another boy my age smiled at me, with brown eyes that reminded me painfully of Habiki.

"You just aim it a little higher than you expect," he said brightly, righting himself.

"Eh, right," I muttered, then turned back and adjusted my stance. This time, the rock skipped across the water and laid next to the other boy's. "Huh. Thanks for the advice."

I sat down again, thinking deeply. Then, a hand shoved me into the river. I yelped, rising out of the shallow water.

The other boy, whose name I was sure I knew, smiled widely at me again. "Want to have some fun?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and erupted. "Prick!" I roared. "Don't you have any sense?"

The boy fell to the ground, practically whimpering. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you."

I stared at him, my eyebrow twitching. "I accept your apology?" I said awkwardly, though I unintentionally phrased it like a question. "Um, what are you doing here?"

He blinked at me, standing up. He helped me out of the river. "My clan's kind of stuffy sometimes,"

I smiled wryly. "Same here," I replied. "My name is Madara. What's yours?"

"Hashirama," he replied. Hashirama's eyes were drawn to something behind me. He leaped out onto the river, chakra keeping him atop the water. I turned around and saw what he was looking at.

"We should go," he told me, suddenly grim. "This place is bound to become a battlefield soon."

I nodded solemnly. I paused. "If our clans fight each other, I'm sorry," I said.

"We don't even know each other's clans," he said, brow furrowing in confusion. I smiled.

"We don't need to. Just know that I'm sorry. I don't want it to be this way."

Hashirama nodded, his eyes alight with understanding. He stood up and bowed to me. I bowed in return.

With that, we separated and went to our respective homes.

* * *

 

A month, I watched as the group of full-grown Uchiha men returned to the compound. They had smears of blood on them and the spoils of battle. I narrowed my eyes.

"Did you see how the little one cried?" One jeered. "Y'know, the one with the weird hair?"

I recognized him as Uchiha Hito. He was arrogant and easy to anger on all fronts, especially by the enemy.

"Oh yeah!" Another - Uchiha Akira - interjected. "I can't believe the Senju let such pathetic brats onto the field."

Two others, who I didn't know the names of, laughed. The only silent one was the one who was being led away by an iryō-nin.

One of the unknown ones spoke up. "I bet we'll avenge Habiki-sama soon," he said viciously. "He was only eight and those Senju bastards murdered him."

The other unknown rolled his eyes and elbowed the other. "Madara-sama did that. Didn't you see him when he came back to the compound? He was covered head to toe in gore."

Akira smirked. "Madara-sama will be the strongest clan head we've ever seen," he proclaimed. "He'll bring us into a new era of glory."

I clenched my teeth and tried to ignore how my stomach churned. I'd bring a new era, alright. But it wouldn't be by bloodshed and conquest.

I knew exactly who to talk to about it to make it happen, too.

I turned away, walking to one of the smaller entrances out of the compound.

* * *

 

Hashirama was already sitting at the river when I arrived. I knew his brother was the one my clansmen had killed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He twitched but didn't move. A long moment passed between us before he spoke.

"My little brother," he whispered. "died in a battle." His body quivered beneath my hand and he was crying before I knew it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I told him sincerely. "My little brother, Habiki, died as well, three years ago. I wish it weren't this way."

We lapsed into a silence, staring at the river in front of us. Hashirama spoke again.

"What if," he began. "What if, one day, all of us could band together, and make a place where children don't have to die for another's war?"

I smiled faintly. "That sounds like a nice dream," I told him wistfully, beginning to skip rocks. "Do... you mind if I join you, in that dream?"

He looked at me, obviously shocked. "You'd do that, Madara?" He stammered. "We hardly know each other."

"We've known each other for a full month," I rebuked, ruffling his hair. "Besides, you're like a brother to me now, no matter what clans we're from."

He stood up and together we walked to the edge of the cliff. A waterfall bisected it, becoming a river at the very bottom.

"A village," he mused. "A village, where clans live together and no longer fight. Maybe we should build it right here."

I nodded. "In the forest, hm?" I smirked, crossing my arms. "It'd be a village hidden in the leaves." It needed to be named the same, of course. Otherwise, it just wouldn't be right.

He turned his head to look at me and grinned. "Konohagakure no Sato, huh?" He said. "That sounds like a nice name."

I nodded. "A shinobi village." I paused, frowning. "But it can't come true until we stop fighting, can it?"

Hashirama stopped, seeming to be weighed by the world. "You have a point," he admitted. Then, with flames in his eyes, he spoke again. "But, if we get strong enough, the adults can't ignore us! If we master all sorts of jutsu and show them our dream, then they'll have to follow us!"

I smiled, chuckling. It wasn't quite how it worked, but Hashirama seemed so ready to do it that I couldn't help but go along with him. "Alright. Next time, we'll train."

He swiveled to look at me, eyes large. "W-what? You'd do that?"

"Of course. You're my brother now. Brothers look out for each other."

* * *

 

Another two months passed. Hashirama and I met up twice a week, or as often as our schedule allowed, to train and to talk about Konoha.

Our taijutsu improved remarkably and we taught each other jutsu - nothing clan-related, but enough to make a difference.

While we were with each other, we could almost forget the fighting.

Except, that wouldn't last for long.

"Aniki!" Izuna called as I approached the compound. "Tou-sama wants to talk with us."

Hesitantly, I went after him, following him to our father's study. A sick feeling swelled in my chest.

"Madara," Father rumbled as we sat in front of him. "That boy you're meeting is a Senju." I let my face be colored by fake surprise. "I take it you didn't know?"

"No, tou-sama," I replied seriously. "He appeared to be from any clan or even none of them."

He frowned at me. "So," he said slowly. "If the clan finds out about this, then it could spell destruction for you and for us all. Even if it's simply a friendship, you know that we cannot afford this. What if he finds out you've killed his kinsmen?"

I fell silent, swallowing. "Tou-sama," I began. "If you're asking me to betray Hashirama..."

"Do it," he snapped. "Or I will disown you."

I flinched. "Yes, tou-sama."

I stood up and returned to my room. I grabbed the rock from my robes. I carefully wrote the kanji for Run on it, then let it dry.

Feeling ill, I crawled into my bed and waited anxiously for the next meeting.

* * *

 

Hashirama was on the other side of the river when I arrived. I felt Izuna and Father behind me, and two unfamiliar chakra signatures - Tobirama and Butsuma - behind Hashirama.

"I know this seems strange," I said. "But let's exchange rocks every time we meet from now on." Grimly, Hashirama nodded. In unison, we skipped the rocks.

I only needed to read the word trap emblazoned on the rock before I instinctively moved away from the river.

Izuna and Father, on the other hand, had different plans. My heart was too loud to hear as Uchiha and Senju exchanged words. I watched as Father and Butsuma struck at each other while their younger sons fought.

In unison, Hashirama and I howled "Stop!"

Father threw a tanto at Tobirama. Butsuma tossed a kunai at Izuna.

I let my rock fly, crashing into the kunai. Hashirama's threw off the tanto. We took our place in front of our younger brothers. I saw the anguish in his brown eyes, the ones so similar to Habiki's.

I swallowed and offered the Seal of Reconciliation. Usually, it was used only in friendly spars, but it was widely known. I heard Izuna's gasp behind me, and Father's "Madara..."

Hashirama sucked in a breath as he looked between my hand and my face. "Remember what I said?" I asked gently. "You're as much a brother to me as Izuna is."

His eyes widened. "And you're much a brother to me as Tobirama is to me," he replied seriously. Then, he accepted my Seal of Reconciliation.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Izuna sheathed his sword and moved to stand beside me. He looked Tobirama in the eye and solemnly offered the same Seal. Tobirama looked between his father and his brother, a disgruntled expression on his face.

Then, he sighed, resigned, and clasped his fingers to Izuna's.

"Madara, Izuna," Father said sharply. "What are you doing?"

I let go of Hashirama's fingers, turning around to glare at him with Sharingan eyes. He flinched. "Fixing your mistakes," I replied angrily. "I'm tired of war. I'm tired of fighting. Even if I can't change it now, I can wait until your death, father," I said the last sentence far too sweetly for a child my age with my experience. "After all, I'm the next clan head."

He took a step back. For a second, I was bewildered as to why he was scared of a thirteen-year-old and his son to boot, but then I realized how much killer intent I was pushing towards him.

"Now, we're all going to go home and call all of our warriors back," I said since everyone had been silent except for me. "We're going to tell them all we're going to negotiate a truce and then we aren't going to fight anymore. Agreed?"

"Aniki," Izuna muttered. "Maybe... you shouldn't be making demands right now?" He tugged on my sleep and I sighed.

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But this is the only way for us to stop fighting, whether or not we like it."

Hashirama nodded. "A truce sounds good," he replied quickly, as if he feared he would incur my wrath somehow.

I smiled at him. "I know we probably can't achieve our dream until later," I said. "But we can build the roots, the foundation, for it now."

He beamed. "Thank you, Madara!" With that, he threw his arms around me in a hug. I froze up instinctively, then hesitantly returned the hug.

"No matter what happens, don't forget our dream," I whispered into his ear. "Because I never will."

* * *

 

Haggling a truce was... harder than I expected. The first meeting was extremely tense, run by Tajima and Butsuma. If anyone made the wrong move, they'd be in a genjutsu or have a kunai to their throat before they could blink.

It took another damn year for something resembling a truce to come around. In all honesty, it was more of a ceasefire than a truce, but it was better than the hell that could have happened.

Regardless, things were still tense. No one fought each other, but each side was suspicious of the other. Except for us who chose to become friends, of course.

Izuna willingly came along with me to meet with Hashirama, while Hashirama all but bodily dragged his brother out to meet us.

I was fifteen and Hashirama nearly sixteen when the truce's terms were finally, finally decided.

I sat opposite of Hashirama. Izuna was to my right and Father to my left, facing their respective counterparts. This placed us both at the center of our respective tables.

The Senju and Uchiha elders were gathered behind us, as well as high-ranking clan members.

"The third meeting of the Senju and Uchiha, begin," croaked an old Senju woman. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes pierced me as Father began to speak.

"We will need something in return for peace," he announced. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at that. Of course we did - that's why we had these meetings. "Many old traditions have a marriage link clans together if you would accept that."

"And who would you prefer to marry off?" Butsuma interjected. "Madara? You know he can't marry outside of the clan per your traditions."

Father looked as if he had bitten into a sour lemon. "Yet you have Hashirama and Tobirama, do you not?" He said, narrowing his eyes. "I doubt you'd have your heir marry an Uchiha, after all," his voice was full of sarcasm and hostility. I placed a hand on his arm, shooting him a look.

Father composed himself rather quickly, grimacing. Butsuma's face was stony when I looked back at it.

"If I may make a proposition?" I asked softly. The two clan heads looked at me, tilting their heads in near unison. I wrestled back a smirk at how in tune they were with each other. "Tobirama has yet to find a future spouse, correct? And Hashirama seems unlikely to die at this point."

At Butsuma's begrudging nod, I pushed forward. "I have a cousin - Uchiha Manami - who may be fitting of him. She's just a civilian, with minimal combat skills. She's even-tempered and her parents have yet to find a match for her. She is tou-sama's sister's daughter," I told them demurely.

He stared at me. Tobirama's red eyes were narrowed and I relished in the fact he was likely cursing me out in his mind. I flashed an innocent smile at them.

"I suppose," Butsuma said, grimacing. "That would be acceptable. However, if this is to happen, they must meet before the marriage, and they must marry on the day the younger turns sixteen."

I nodded solemnly. "Manami-san is a full year older than Tobirama," I said. "She would be... fourteen, by my count. You turned thirteen last month, correct?" The boy in question nodded, frowning. I smiled. "We have just under three years, then,"

Father spoke up about territory and borders, which turned into an argument about settling debts and revenge stories. I tuned out the words and sighed.

Across the room, Hashirama flashed me a thumbs up. If looks could kill, Tobirama would have murdered me two times over. Izuna, noting the Senjus' and my shenanigans, sighed and shook his head with bemusement.

All the while, I smirked. Today was a good day and I didn't want anything or anyone to sour it.

Not even my father.

These peace talks, however, didn't last long. As always, another wrench was thrown into the plan.

* * *

A week after that last peace talk, a small group of Uchiha split off from the clan and ran off into the night.

My father branded them traitors and left it at that. Perhaps he hoped they would return after they saw what was going on, perhaps something else. Alas, his lack of action would come to bite us all in the ass.

Especially Tobirama's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, some things are canon-compliant, while some aren't. My memory isn't the best, and insert!Madara is so different from canon!Madara that he really makes a change. Insert!Madara wields a naginata [and sometimes a sword] instead of the gunbai and kama that canon!Madara wields.
> 
> Things will be tense between the Uchiha and Senju for a long, long time.


	3. Thermoregulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't expect things like this for much longer - I just had to type all of this out because it was bursting to get free.
> 
> Madara is ages sixteen to eighteen in this chapter. Hashirama is seventeen to nineteen.
> 
> Jan 27, 2019 - Not given up on this story yet! In the meantime, check out my writing tumblr: https://jay-jabbering.tumblr.com/

Another year passed with minimal hiccups. Minimal meaning interclan disputes, anyway. Hiccups relating to the outside were aplenty. Which was usual and to be expected.

I was in the Senju compound for a few weeks as a sign of good faith. Tobirama had been sent to the Uchiha compound in return for me. In actuality, it was more of a disguised captive exchange situation. If something happened to Tobirama or me, the other could be killed or tortured or vice versa.

Considering we were shinobi, I didn't expect any less.

Walking down the main road without any weapons made me feel naked. I had jutsu, yes, but I was the most skilled at bukijutsu. As a sign of vulnerability, I couldn't carry any weapons unless they were used for sparring, which had to go through a rather long and boring process. The only ones who could veto that process were Butsuma, Tobirama, and Hashirama.

Speaking of Hashirama...

"Madara!" I turned my head to look at the man-child in question, who was waving at me. "Want to spar? I have a new jutsu I want to test."

In the last few years, he had made the decision to grow out his hair. It now reached shoulder length and looked completely ridiculous. In my opinion, anyway.

I eyed him, wondering what this new jutsu of his would be. Hashirama could be terribly impertinent in life and it could be said for the same during battle.

"Fine," I sighed. "Let's go fetch my weapons. Which training ground?"

"Training Ground Sixty-Seven," he replied brightly, bounding after me as we walked to the clan head's house. I grimaced.

* * *

Training Ground Sixty-Seven was just a bit more than a glorified outdoor dojo. It was tucked between a few training buildings and bordered a forest.

By the time Hashirama and I set up, a small group had already started to gather.

I slammed the handle of my naginata against the ground and offered the Seal of Confrontation. Hashirama's grin morphed into a serious look as he did the same.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Hashirama threw a brace of shuriken at me, which I lazily dodged. I made a few slow strikes at him with my naginata, which he dodged as well. He grinned at me and flowed through a few handseals.

"Mokuton: Hotei no Jutsu!"

Huge wooden hands suddenly erupted from the ground underneath me. I jumped up and away, heart pounding in my ears. They chased after me, even as I retreated.

When I was out of reach, I activated my Sharingan, smirking. "Wood, hm? Let's see how it fares against my fire."

I put my naginata away, just for a moment, and ran through my own handseals. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"

A ball of fire erupted from my mouth heading straight for Hashirama. I saw his eyes widen before he was engulfed by flame. Except not really, because I both felt and saw his chakra.

When the flame dissipated, I saw that he had put up a wall of wood around him. It was singed and collapsing in places, but was holding up remarkably well.

I grinned. "Want to step it up a notch?" I called. The wood disappeared into the ground.

"Come at me!" Hashirama yelled. I picked up my naginata and rushed at him.

My chakra natures were fire and wind - fire from my father, wind from my mother - and I could utilize that with terrifying accuracy. It was one of the reasons so many had fallen to my blade.

I coated my naginata with chakra, making it sharper than it actually was. Hashirama reached up to block me with a kunai.

My naginata cut through his kunai.

Neither of us expected this.

I stopped short of lobbing his head off, eyes wide. He ducked anyway, wood pealing out of the ground to stab me in the ribs. I dodged.

Going through the handseals, I expelled a huge gust of wind in the form of Fūton: Daitoppa. It tore through the wood, creating small cuts across Hashirama's face.

He brought up his hands to block but by that time I was already going through the handseals for another Gōkakyū.

Hashirama swore, which I could see from reading his lips, and let out a cry of "Suiton: Suijun!"

So he was going for defense now, hm? I changed tactics.

My chakra reserves were only just under half, now. Training all my childhood had paid off.

I watched as the water evaporated into steam. We were now blanketed in a mist. I felt the chakras of the onlookers twitch with confusion as it happened, but I stayed still.

Hashirama's chakra spiked. Earth surged up around me, but I jumped away before it could encase me.

"You're going to have to try harder than that, Hashirama," I taunted, intentionally trying to rile him up. "Show me what you've got."

Kunai and shuriken hailed down on me. I either dodged or deflected with my naginata. I needed to get rid of this mist.

I couldn't do large wind techniques without a tessen, which made me only slightly regret not choosing the gunbai.

Instead, I went through the handseals for Fūton: Reppūshō. It erupted from my palms in twin gales.

The mist was blasted away, revealing Hashirama, me, and the ever-growing crowd. I panted slightly, my stamina somewhat drained.

"Taijutsu?" Hashirama called. "Put that beast you call a weapon away."

I snorted, smirking at him. Then, I put my naginata away and took a few steps toward him. Then, we ran toward each other and met in a fist fight.

He made an open-palm strike to my chin. I blocked. I hit him in the shin with my foot. He punched me in the gut, though it wasn't chakra-backed. I grinned at him.

We met blow for blow, tiring each other out. Before long, we were both panting and tired.

I stood up, my body aching, then went in for the last hit I could manage - straight to the face. He did the same. Our strikes hit their targets.

We were both knocked down. I stared up at the sky, groaning softly. I let my chakra flow away from my eyes and slowly sat up.

Hashirama, ever energetic, stood up before me and offered me a hand. I took it, pulling myself up.

"That was a good spar," I told him, offering the Seal of Reconciliation. "So, a draw? Like all the other times we've sparred?" He returned the Seal in kind, then let our hands drop.

A considering look crossed his face. "Yes, pretty much," he replied. "I think my clansmen decided to place bets."

Suddenly remembering the canonical Hashirama's penchant for gambling, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Don't gamble," I said, eyebrow twitching. "I'll punch you if you do,"

Hashirama pouted. "You're such a party pooper, Madara," he grumbled. "It's fun!"

"Absolutely not," I said. I was tempted to punch him again. "Now, let's go put my weapons away before someone stabs me for carrying them."

"They won't stab you!" Hashirama said, scandalized. I snorted at his tone. "What? They wouldn't dare put Tobirama in danger."

I tilted my head. "I... That's fair," I conceded. "So, do you have any plans after Tobirama gets married?"

"Eeeh, I don't know," he replied. We began to walk back to his house. I ignored the odd looks of the Senju, especially those who were older and weren't quite used to this new alliance. "What will you do?"

I blinked at the question, nearly stopping in my tracks. "I don't know either," I confessed. "I haven't put much thought into it. Maybe... get married and have kids after I take over the clan?" I shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I didn't expect to live this long."

"I mean, that's to be expected," Hashirama said solemnly. "We were at war no more than three years ago."

"Hashirama... when we become head of our clans..." I trailed off, worrying at my sleeve. He gave me an encouraging look, even as we walked. He could inspire anyone to be courageous. Maybe that's one of the reasons he became the Shodaime Hokage - being able to inspire others. I shook my head, as if to dislodge my thoughts. "Will we make Konoha a reality? I can't see either of our fathers willing to do that."

Hashirama looked at me incredulously. "Of course," he replied. "Now, we should get inside before tou-san yells at us for loitering."

I looked up at the imposing house and sighed. "Yeah... you're right." I kept the I'm sorry inside, swallowing it and shoving it away.

I followed Hashirama into the house.

* * *

Two years passed. Tensions between the clans rose and fell with each passing day, like a strange tsunami.

In those two years, I trained harder than ever. Hashirama and I regularly beat each other into the ground, always pushing each other to get better.

My chakra reserves increased by a vast amount, allowing me to fight for twenty-four hours without stopping with ease. I added Fūton: Kūdan, Katon: Gōenka, and Katon: Karyūdan to my jutsu collection, amongst others.

Indra, whose chakra natures were fire and lightning, grew in a similar fashion. He and Tobirama became rivals for one reason or another, making each other grow in a shorter amount of time than they would have done alone.

Hashirama, on the other hand, increased his skill with Mokuton. He was frightening to behold and I was glad I had chosen not to scorn him so many years ago. He could crush me in a second if he wanted to.

Meanwhile, at home; my father had a bad knee after so much battle and after living past the expected age for shinobi. It went down underneath him and sent him tumbling down the house's stone steps. When I got to him, he was unconscious and his condition was far too great for me to heal alone.

So, I took him to the iryō-nin.

I crossed my arms and frowned as the iryō-nin worked over my unconscious father. His face was tense and pale, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His clothing had been removed and he had been placed into a mock hospital gown. I saw that his knee was incredibly swollen, nearly twice the size it had been when I saw it a week prior.

Even I knew that was a bad sign.

"What's happened?" Izuna shouted, running into the room. I shook my head at him, making a hushing sound.

"Tou-sama fell and hit his head," I replied calmly. "I brought him here. Hopefully, the medics can heal him."

We waited ten minutes before the iryō-nin's hands stopped glowing. Her hands dropped from his head and she shook her head. "There's nothing more I can do," she told us. "His brain sustained too much damage for us to repair. I expect him to live a week at the most."

I ran my hand down my face and sighed. "Alright." I paused. "You know... the Senju have better iryō-nin than us," I said.

Her face twisted, before hiding her expression. "I suppose," she said carefully. "That would be possible. But I wouldn't risk moving him. You must bring the iryō-nin here, or none at all."

I frowned, before nodding. "I'll see what I can do," I told the two calmly. "Izuna, please take care of the clan while I'm gone."

Without listening for their replies, I packed light and set out for the Senju compound.

* * *

Normally, clan compounds were well hidden. You shouldn't risk telling someone where you lived in these days, lest you be murdered in the middle of the night.

I stopped in front of the gates, digging my heels into the ground. I had been traveling for the whole day and most of the night. By the time I arrived, it was in the wee hours of the morning.

"Who goes there?" The Senju sentry called. I set my shoulders and made my face grim.

"Uchiha Madara on the behalf of the Uchiha clan," I replied. "Uchiha Tajima is in need of urgent medical support,"

There was a scuffle in the watchtower and I heard faint talking, though I wasn't going to try to bolster my hearing.

Finally, the gates were opened. I made it halfway through before Hashirama and Butsuma met me, their faces grim.

"What happened?" Butsuma demanded. I pressed my lips into a thin line.

"Tou-sama fell and hit his head," I surmised. "He has mild to severe brain damage. Our iryō-nin cannot heal him."

Butsuma cupped his chin and frowned. Hashirama's eyes were wide. I gave him a flat, dark smile.

"And you want us to send iryō-nin with you?" He asked, crooking his brow. I dipped my head in acknowledgment. He sighed. "Very well. I suppose I owe him that much," he said begrudgingly. "Hashirama, get Asuka and Isao. Take them with Madara back to the Uchiha compound."

Hashirama nodded. Then, casting one more look at me, he vanished into the night. Butsuma and I were left to wait in an awkward silence. Suddenly, he spoke.

"You chose a good wife for Tobirama," he said. "He needs someone to cool his head at times."

I blinked at him. "Tobirama is one of the most rational people I know," I replied.

Butsuma shook his head. "That is what he appears to be, but my son is cocky and arrogant at times. Manami-san will do good for him. Speaking of their marriage, Tobirama is due to marry in a month."

I smiled. "So he is. He'll take his wife and live in the Senju compound," I told him. "As is the tradition."

He frowned at me. I smiled.

At that moment, Hashirama returned with a man and a woman in tow. Well, they were more like a boy and a girl, but in the world of shinobi, age mattered little.

"Go," Butsuma ordered.

We left the Senju compound before you could even blink.

* * *

We flew through the forest, making it back to the compound before you could even blink.

The gates were opened as soon as I activated my Sharingan and brought them inside. I led them to the clinic where my father was. The first iryō-nin and Izuna were still there.

Izuna looked half-panicked but was managing to keep calm. The iryō-nin - and I really had to learn her name at some point - was attempting to keep Father's fever down.

"Here he is," I said to the Senju iryō-nin.

The two immediately went to our own iryō-nin and then they spoke in a medical language I didn't understand. Izuna, Hashirama, and I were off to the side.

Asuka, if that was her name, began to work on his knee. Isao sat at his head. In unison, green chakra slid out from their hands and poured into my father.

I waited anxiously.

The swelling subsided. He stopped sweating and his face relaxed.

Isao turned to me, smiling. "He'll live," he said. "He may sleep for the rest of the night, but he might wake up within the hour,"

The tension in my shoulders I hadn't noticed released, making me slouch.

"Thank you," I said, bowing lowly. "I am in your debts."

After that, Izuna and I brought them to the gates and bid them farewell.

As the sun rose over the trees, I mused about the future and what it had in store for us all.

* * *

A month came and went - father recovered, Tobirama turned 16, among others. On 1 March, the wedding was held. Manami and Tobirama said their vows and then, we partied like you wouldn't believe. There was alcohol everywhere - only sixteen and older were allowed to drink, however, leaving Izuna incredibly sober and slightly miffed.

Hashirama, now nineteen years old, drank like a fish. I was his sober tagalong, trying (and mostly failing) to keep him from drinking. I kept a careful eye on the bride and groom, trying to keep track of everyone I found important.

Eventually, Tobirama and Manami were ushered into their bedroom, to... perform the duties of husband and wife.

Even though I didn't talk to Manami much, I enjoyed the happy smile on her face when she kissed Tobirama for the first time. If I was reading Tobirama's expression right, he was excited to be with her.

I frowned, cocking my head. "Izuna," I called, waving him over. "Keep an eye on Hashirama and tou-sama. I need to... check on Manami-san."

"Alright, aniki. Please be careful. Knock first?" He suggested, eyeing my drunken best friend wearily.

"Will do," I told him, heading quickly to the room. I knocked on the door politely, but from what I could tell of the chakra signatures, no one was having sex in there.

I frowned and tried the handle. Locked. I muttered a curse under my breath and made the signs for Fūton: Reppūshō. The door detached at the hinges and fell forward.

The sound was hidden by a raucous cheer from a Senju at the party. I stepped into the dark room, activating my Sharingan. I narrowed my eyes and acted quickly.

Tobirama was pinned under one of the rogue Uchiha. Manami was unconscious and face down on the bed. Another rogue was holding several senbon - most likely poisoned.

I threw a kunai, which struck the man pinning Tobirama. I rushed the other rogue, putting her in a genjutsu before she could blink.

"Tobirama," I said seriously. "What's happened?"

He blinked groggily at me. I frowned. "They came in through the window," he said, words slurring. "Hit me in the head. Hit Manami-chan with a sedative," he shook his head. "Pinned me. I think they were trying to take her."

I pressed my lips together.

Then, an explosion rocked the building. I swore. I flared my chakra in a quick. Two of the guards shunshined to me, ready to attack. One was an Uchiha, the other a Senju. Perfect.

"Protect Tobirama and Manami-san," I ordered. "Kill everyone you don't know."

The two nodded. I left the room quickly, feeling frazzled.

The room where the party was taking place had turned into a murder scene. Uchiha and Senju fought back to back to fend off their attackers.

I counted ten, twenty vaguely familiar chakra signatures that I sensed. From where I stood, I could see fifteen of them.

About half of the party was drunk or dead. Or both. Hashirama and Izuna were fighting together, though Hashirama only risked using bukijutsu and taijutsu. He wasn't drunk enough to have some sense, I supposed.

I took out a kunai and joined the fray. I managed to decimate three of them before I joined my father in battle.

I was met with a familiar face. "Akira," I said mildly. "Wasn't it you who killed Senju Itama?"

The man, the most unruly and dirty I had ever seen him, snarled at me. "What do you know about the Senju, filthy brat? I bet you're fucking that long-haired b-"

My father punched Akira in the mouth. I blinked at him and he smirked at me. "I can't have anyone bad-mouth my heir, much less a traitor," he said.

His moment of banter killed him. Literally.

The tanto was shoved into his throat, blood spraying across my face. I gaped at my father as he fell before me. My eyes burned, itched, shifted in their sockets.

"You," I said slowly, smiling at Akira. "Are going to regret that."

Chakra poured through my body, coating me in it. I stabbed Akira in the stomach, watching as he choked on his own blood. I turned and caught the shuriken that was flung at me, returning it to its owner's chest.

I turned to a third, who was trying to sneak up on me. I felt my mouth move and the words flow from them. "Nise no Hi."

I felt something warm and sticky run down my left cheek. The man screamed, clawing his eyes from his skull. I smiled grimly. A genjutsu, then?

The battle became a blur after that. I only knew who was an enemy and who wasn't. I didn't risk casting a jutsu - this was a ceremonial building integral to the culture of the region - but instead merely used taijutsu and whatever weapons I could find.

When I came back down from my strange battle-high, Izuna's face was the first thing I saw. His expression was grim. He dabbed at the blood from my face.

"Are you back now, aniki?" He asked patiently. Mechanically, I nodded. "You're clan head now."

I swallowed. I was, wasn't I? Now that Father was dead, I was head of the clan. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I was just so angry,"

"It's okay," he said, placing his hand on mine. "He killed tou-sama. You had a right to be angry."

I bowed my head and closed my eyes. "How many died?"

"Out of all two hundred who attended, fifty-three died. Twenty-four Uchiha and twenty-nine Senju," he said. "Not counting all twenty-five of the enemy."

I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. "We should all return home," I said, voice cracking. "And mourn those who have been lost."

"Of course, aniki. The bodies have been gathered already," he paused. "What... what happened to your Sharingan?"

I swallowed. "I... father told me about it once," I lied. "A long time ago. It's a very rare power, which comes at a high price," I leaned forward, looking him in the eye. "It's called the Mangekyō Sharingan. If I use it too much, I'll go blind,"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Is there no way to stop becoming blind?"

I hesitated. "Yes," I admitted. "Just one. It's to replace the blind eyes with that of a brother's Mangekyō."

He paled. "Alright, aniki," he said. "We should... we should go home now, right?"

I nodded, feeling exhausted. "Let's go home." I slowly stood up, feeling my bones creak.

We left the side room and entered the hallway. In the main room, we were stopped by Tobirama and Hashirama.

"Thank you for protecting my brother," Hashirama said, eyes soft. "I'm sorry about your father."

"Thank you for protecting mine," I replied. I offered my hand. "I'm sorry that this happened at all. I'm going to hunt down all of them and make them regret betraying the clan."

His face became grim as he clasped my arm. "Let's do it together. I lost friends today," Hashirama said.

I nodded.

I swore I saw an approving look on Tobirama's face before he became stoic again.

"I don't know when we'll start," I told him seriously. "But we'll plan. I won't let myself die to a few rogues."

He grinned at me. "I hope you don't! Or I'll have to kill you myself," he said jokingly. "Now, let's go home,"

I smiled and dropped his arm. "Let's go home," I agreed softly.

* * *

The bodies were sealed into scrolls, courtesy of the Uzumaki. We returned home and built many funeral pyres over the next several nights.

I was given a full week grace period before I was to become the head of the clan.

On 8 March, I was shoved into some ceremonial robes and sent before the elders. They spoke words; of the Uchiha's history, of my father's past, of me. They deemed me fit to be clan head, which I smiled grimly at.

Izuna moved into a smaller house across the street, even though I told him time and time again he could live in his childhood home. He rebuked it, saying that I was clan head and he was not the child of the clan head anymore and thus had no right to live in that house.

I folded my arms and stared out the back door. My heart felt heavy, but my mind was clear.

In order for Konoha to be created, I needed to get rid of these rogue Uchiha. Even if it meant me dying, I needed to ensure that future generations didn't need to fight as I had.

I turned around and shut the door behind me.

It felt like one volume of my life had closed and another had opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline:  
> BKF - Before Konoha's Founding : AKF - After Konoha's Founding
> 
> October 23, 23 BKF - Hashirama is born
> 
> December 24, 22 BKF - Madara is born
> 
> February 19, 20 BKF - Tobirama is born
> 
> March 27, 20 BKF - Habiki is born
> 
> February 10, 18 BKF - Izuna is born
> 
> September 4, 16 BKF - Junko dies, with stillborn twins Kaede and Kaito
> 
> August 19, 12 BKF - Habiki dies
> 
> June 7, 9 BKF - Madara and Hashirama meet [Madara 12-13, Hashirama 13-14]
> 
> August 23, 9 BKF - Madara forces the clans to make a truce
> 
> April 9, 7 BKF - Truce is finally decided upon
> 
> May 24, 6 BKF - Tobirama and Madara switch places in compounds [Madara 16-17, Hashirama 17-18]
> 
> January 16, 4 BKF - Tajima takes a fall, survives [Madara 18-19, Hashirama 19-20]
> 
> March 1, 4 BKF - Tobirama and Manami Uchiha marry; the renegade Uchiha sneak into the wedding and try to kill Tobirama and try to kidnap Manami. Tajima is murdered - Madara activates Mangekyō. Even though many of the Senju and Uchiha are drunk, they manage to beat back the renegades.
> 
> March 8, 4 BKF - Madara is installed as the head of the Uchiha
> 
> -
> 
> As for Madara's Mangekyō, we'll just have to wait and see for that!

**Author's Note:**

> This IS an OC-insert, not a self-insert. I've had this plot bunny wiggling around in my head for YEARS and just now found the time to write it down.


End file.
